The valley was quiet.
Too quiet.
Rael stood at the center of it, surrounded by glowing stone and ancient silence. The crystal heart above the altar beat slowly, its rhythm matching his own. With every pulse, memories flooded his mind. Visions of cities he had never seen. Names he had never spoken. Languages he had never learned.
He was not just remembering.
He was becoming.
Maerin approached cautiously, boots crunching on the cracked stone.
"You should not be able to see echoes," he said.
Rael turned to him, silver eyes dimming slightly.
"What are they?"
"Fragments," Maerin answered. "Leftovers of those who bore your blood before you. Most bloodlines forget. Yours does not."
Rael looked down at his hands. The glowing lines had faded, but the glyphs remained, etched faintly into his skin like scars made of light.
"They were all… me?" he asked quietly.
"No," Maerin said. "But you carry pieces of them. And they carry pieces of you now."
Rael sat at the base of the altar. The Cradle pulsed behind him, steady and strong. For the first time in days, the pain was gone. Replaced by something else. A strange stillness.
"I feel like I could rip the sky open," he said. "But I don't know what I am anymore."
Maerin crouched nearby, resting his staff across his knees.
"You are Veinscarred now. You've survived what most do not. You will hear things. Feel things. Your blood will pull you toward places that remember."
"Places?"
"Ruins. Graves. Forgotten battlegrounds. The First Vein is drawn to its own."
Rael was quiet for a while.
"I thought the Houses were strong. But this… this is something else."
Maerin nodded slowly.
"They diluted their power to rule longer. You were never meant to awaken. Not without control. That is why they fear you."
Rael looked up at him.
"Then I will give them a reason to."
Before Maerin could respond, a sharp crack echoed across the valley. The mist trembled.
Both men turned toward the sound.
Figures were emerging from the far side of the basin. Black robes. Silver masks. Each of them bore a burning glyph over their heart.
Maerin's voice was low and grim.
"Bloodbinders."
Rael stood.
"What do they want?"
Maerin raised his staff.
"They want to take what is in your veins. And they do not ask."